


Hello, My Name is -

by Drag0nst0rm



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragonlords, Dragons, Gen, POV Third Person Omniscient, what's in a name?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: Merlin. Emrys. Dragoon.The greatest sorcerer to ever live has an awful lot of names.But none of the names above are the one his mother gave him.





	Hello, My Name is -

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Merlin.

"Balinor, mate! You're back!" A grinning blonde boy about Merlin's age clapped a hand on Merlin's back.

"Will." Merlin's answering grin was brighter than Arthur had seen it in a while, but that didn't make sense because Will hadn't been talking to him. He'd been talking to someone named Balinor.

Yet Merlin didn't seem to find it odd. "What did you call him?" he demanded.

Both of them jumped. They hadn't seen him.

"His name," Will said in defiant confusion.

"His name is Merlin, not whatever you just called him.”

Will shot his friend a look that quickly hardened as some realization hit him. 

Merlin looked away awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, actually . . . “

"You lied about your name," Arthur said incredulously. "Why on earth would you lie about your name?”

Merlin's eyes snapped back to his. "It's my father's name.”

"And, what, you don't get on?" Hunith had come alone to Camelot, Arthur remembered. What kind of man would send his wife on such a dangerous trip alone?

"Never had the chance to find out. I never met him.”

"Oh."

Merlin could see the understanding flit across the prince's face, could probably quote word for word the assumptions he was making. They curled up inside him bitterly, but he plastered a smile on his face. Let Arthur think what he wanted if it would keep him from asking questions.

Will shot another glance at Merlin. Will understood all too well, and he championed his friend's cause as well as he always had. "So, Merlin, huh. I wonder where you could have _possibly_ come up with that name - “

"You promised you'd never bring that up again!" His outrage was faked. He knew what Will was doing. Then again, the story _was_ pretty embarrassing.

Arthur looked between the two of them. “What?"

Will began spilling the story out. Arthur listened as well as he could, catching words like "fake wings" and "trying to fly off the top of a pine tree". He kept getting distracted by Merlin's laughing efforts to stop his friend and the casual shoves and jibes between them. Merlin - and that wasn't even his real name, was it? - was comfortable here. He had a friendship that bordered on brotherhood, and Arthur was -

Not jealous. He was a prince. Princes didn't get jealous of peasant boys and manservants. Princes didn't wish that they could let go of their dignity and join in.

Of course, typically speaking, princes didn't travel to tiny villages in other kingdoms to protect them from raiders against the king's orders.

Arthur smiled politely when Will's story ended and told Merlin he needed him for whatever chore that had prompted him to come over in the first place. Merlin slipped out instead of Balinor, and he didn't miss the flash of relief in the other boy's eyes.

The name really bothered him, didn't it? A part of him that he normally refused to acknowledge set it firmly off limits for ordinary teasing.

Still, someday, if he was really angry . . .

 

"The dragon has escaped," the king announced. "It was seen flying over the city this morning. Although it has not attacked yet, it is surely only a matter of time.”

Merlin really wished he'd had a chance to talk to Gaius and explain things. Maybe then the physician wouldn't have skillfully persuaded the king to send for the last dragonlord.

_I should have told him,_ he berated himself. _I've had two years now. Why didn't I ever tell him?_

"One survived, Your Majesty. Balinor.”

Merlin very determinedly did not look Arthur.

"Yes," Uther mused. "Arthur, you are to go hunt him down. He was last seen in Ealdor, but that was some eighteen years ago now. It will be a hard task.”

_Oh, look at that crack on the opposite wall. What a fascinating crack. I could look at that crack forever, and that way I would never have to -_

Arthur grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room. The council must have been dismissed. He pulled Merlin into a small hallway and shoved him against a wall before he finally let go and started wearing a hole in the floor.

"Please tell me that we are not about to go looking for your father.”

"We're not about to go looking for my father.”

Arthur looked at him suspiciously. Merlin reluctantly elaborated.

" . . . As that would be rather pointless, seeing as he's dead.”

“Dead."

"Your father's men injured him when they raided Ealdor. He got away but . . . Mum did the best she could. He didn't last the night.”

Arthur leaned against the wall for support. "I don't know what to say.”

"That you're not going to kill me?”

Arthur blinked like the idea hadn't even occurred to him. "It's not like you're the one who's a dragonlord.”

"Well . . . It's sort of might be hereditary." He let the last word out in a rush.

"You're a dragonlord.”

“Yes."

“ _You're_ a dragonlord.”

"Would you stop saying that? I keep expecting your father to poke his head around the corner and chop mine off.”

"That's why you changed your name.”

"Give the man a prize!”

Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face. "So, can you get rid of the dragon?”

"I kind of maybe already did. And I might have . . . “

"Let it go in the first place?”

"He didn't hurt anyone!”

“ _He?”_

"His name's Kilgharrah.”

"You _named_ the dragon?”

"Arthur, dragons are sentient beings. His mother named him." He stopped suddenly. "That's actually a pretty scary thought. Can you imagine Kilgharrah having a mother? Do you think dragons tell bedtime stories? Once upon a time, there was a small, evil, crunchy knight named Sir Dollophead. Sir Dollophead - “

“Merlin!"

"Shut up?”

"Unless you have an idea on what we're going to tell my father.”

"We could tell him I bravely stabbed the dragon to death?"

"Something _believable_ , Merlin.”

"We could tell him you bravely stabbed the dragon to death?”

“Better."

"Or, oh! We could knock him on the head, drag him outside, and tell him _he_ stabbed the dragon to death!”

“Merlin."

"Sorry."

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic I never got around to crossposting before. Originally based on a prompt from Aaronna who wanted Merlin to be a nickname.


End file.
